


Furtive Attraction

by denynothing1



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen, Halloween, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-10-24
Updated: 1999-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-27 07:03:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denynothing1/pseuds/denynothing1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hide and Seek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Furtive Attraction

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: Halloween eve, 1992,

*** 

She felt as if she'd stumbled into an old horror movie. Dust shrouded the neglected furniture, there was a cobweb veil across every doorway, dark stains of long-ago violence splattered over the walls and tattered drapes. Only the haunting rumble of organ music was missing from the scene and she would have welcomed it to mask the hollow sound of her footsteps. The lonely echo reminded her that she had come to this place alone. Or so she thought, until something brushed against her shoulder. 

"Hey, Scully, I got here as fast as I could." 

"Jesus, Mulder," Scully exclaimed, whirling to face her partner, "What are you doing here? And unless you want an elbow in the ribs, don't sneak up on me like that." 

"Spooked?" He grinned and pointed his flashlight under his chin, casting his features into eerie shadow. "So, tell me Scully, do you believe in the existence of spooks?" 

"Knock it off, Mulder, we've got to find her." She turned to follow her flashlight beam into the dingy room, squinting as it flashed across a broken window. She'd have to remember to tell her mother to alert the leasing agency. 

"I thought she liked living at your mother's house," Mulder remarked, joining his beam with hers, lighting up the room's dim corners. 

"She seems to, but you can't blame her for wanting to visit her old home. She did live here for sixty-three years, after all." Scully's flashlight wavered over the dark purple stains on the wall. "Although I guess she was quite a handful by the time Mrs. Curry died last year." 

"I still don't understand how this happened, Scully. I thought she liked you, too. At least, she didn't leave any marks on your walls or drapes." Mulder brushed past Scully as they moved up the east wing hallway of the house, shining his flashlight over the elegant oak staircase and the dusty chandelier hanging in the central foyer. 

"She did. She does," Scully said, with some embarrassment. "We got along fine while she was staying with me. But I guess she saw her chance when I brought her back to my mother's and she just took off when I opened the car door." 

"Good thing she had a nearby target," he said, moving toward the west wing. "Otherwise she might be on her way to Venezuela by now." 

"She's sixty-four, Mulder," she protested. "I think Venezuela is a little beyond her capabilities at this point." 

"Sixty-four isn't dead, Scully. I hope Venezuela isn't beyond me when I'm sixty-four." 

"I don't think Mars will be beyond you when you're sixty-four," Scully muttered, far enough behind him that she could risk making the comment out loud. 

"What about you?" Mulder asked. His smile as he turned to face her was warning enough that he had heard her after all. "I mean, when I'm sixty-four. Will you still--" 

A loud rhythmic thump, followed by what sounded like the rustling of a dozen hungry rats interrupted his question. Scully spun around to face whatever threat might be heading their way, but the foyer was empty. She took a deep breath. "Nothing like a bump in the night to get your heart started." 

"I've been trying to tell you that for years." 

A long, groaning creak that seemed to come from down the dark, east wing hallway suspended Scully's reply. She took an involuntary step back toward Mulder, and they both pointed their flashlights toward the closed kitchen door. 

"You didn't tell me when you called that this place was haunted, Scully." Mulder's delighted whisper filled her ear. "This is the best Halloween present you've ever given me." 

"It's not haunted," she said firmly, almost convincing herself. "And nobody gives presents for Halloween, Mulder." 

"Halloween treat then," he murmured over her shoulder. He reached to lower her arm, plunging the hallway back into darkness. "Don't want to alert the ghost that we're here." 

Feeling silly, Scully nevertheless held still as Mulder's excitement communicated itself through his warm grasp on her arm. They held their poses for a breathless minute, then jumped in unison as a regular, rapid clicking sound came toward them out of the darkness. 

"This is it!" Mulder tightened his grip on her arm. "Why didn't you tell me, Scully? I could've brought a camera." 

The clicking came closer and closer, punctuated by an oddly congested snuffling noise. Just as suddenly as it started, it ceased. 

"Why can't we see anything?" Scully asked, breaking the silence. As if on cue, the clicking made an abrupt return, though this time it seemed to be moving away. 

"You scared it," accused Mulder, releasing her arm. 

" _I_ scared it?" Scully was indignant. "Isn't it supposed to work the other way around?" 

Mulder huffed in disgust and swept his flashlight down the empty hallway. 

"Anyway," she said, "that hardly sounded like a ghost." 

"Is that a new area of expertise for you, Scully? Funny, I didn't see you at the Advanced Ectoplasm Management Seminar last year." 

Before she could lie and tell him she had better things to do with her time, Scully was forced to blink and squint as Mulder swung his flashlight around to her face. 

"Didn't you tell me Mrs. Curry had a dog?" Eagerness colored his voice once again. 

"Yes, but it died years ago." She pushed the light out of her face. "Mulder, I am not going to let you distract me with a hunt for the ghost of a dead Chihuaha." 

"You heard it, Scully," he said. "What else would make that noise?" 

"Pogo," she said firmly. "She's hiding and trying to scare us." 

"You're giving her a lot of credit, aren't you?" 

"She lived in this house for a long time, Mulder. I bet she knows hiding places the builder didn't even know about." 

"She may be old, Scully, but she's got the mind of a three year-old. Do you really think--" He paused as Scully shot him a pointed look. "Yeah, I guess this could be the kind of thing she'd enjoy." 

The fact that they'd failed to locate the object of their search was the only thing that prevented Scully from celebrating that rarest of phenomena -- an acknowledged win for her in an argument with Mulder. She turned away from him and started back up the hall. "Pogo," she called, peering into another dark room, shining her flashlight floor to ceiling. 

"Pogo," echoed Mulder half-heartedly. "I've got to tell you Scully, that is a really lame name." 

"It's a pet name, Mulder," she said. "And it's what she answers to. Keep calling. I think she likes you." 

The rhythm of their steps down the murky hallway faltered as a ghostly scream echoed through the air, followed by a deep, dark chuckle. The floorboards above their heads began to creak. 

"Another ghost!" Mulder exclaimed, starting up the stairs. 

"Mulder, it's just the wind, and the house shifting!" She shook her head as he disappeared into the thick darkness, then listened as the floorboards protested his rapid steps. 

"If you think I'm following you up there, you're nuts," she muttered to herself, turning to the back of the house. The way Pogo looked forward to mealtime, she was sure their best chance of finding her was somewhere in the cavernous old kitchen. 

"Scully!" Mulder's panicked call came from above. "I found her, get up here!" 

Scully turned and raced up the stairs, doubling her speed at the sound of an agonized yelp from Mulder. 

"She's gonna kill me, Scully, hurry!" 

She sped down the creaking hallway, following the sound of his voice. As she skidded to a halt on the gritty wooden floor outside the bathroom, her flashlight revealed Mulder, his face contorted with pain. He stood stock still as the large gray and red parrot clinging to his shoulder ruffled his hair with her beak. 

"Such a pretty bird," cooed the parrot, nuzzling Mulder's ear. 

"Get her off me, Scully," Mulder muttered through clenched teeth, hand hovering over the parrot's neck, "or your mother is going to have an extra course for Thanksgiving dinner this year." 

"Pogo," Scully said, in a stern voice, "come here." She moved toward Mulder, handing him her keys and flashlight. 

The parrot eyed her suspiciously, then snapped, "Bad dog." Using beak and claws, Pogo moved daintily around the back of Mulder's neck, the maneuver accompanied by a distinct whimper from him. She peeked around Mulder's ear, then cocked her head as Scully reached toward her with a handful of grapes. 

"Good girl," Scully said as she lifted the parrot off Mulder's shoulder and gently disengaged the sharp claws. 

"Good girl," agreed Pogo, with her mouth full. 

"Let's go, Mulder," Scully said, holding the parrot close to her chest and walking back down the hallway. 

"Scully, I'm wounded," he complained, lighting her way as she hurried down the stairs. "That thing practically took my ear off." 

"Mulder, please just get the car," she said, standing by the front door. "I promise I'll look at your wounds later. We've got to get her home before my mother gets back." 

She rolled her eyes as Mulder heaved a put-upon sigh, locked the front door, and walked past her down the steps. The gray and red bundle of feathers in her arms shifted suddenly and she tightened her grip as a large beak poked over her arm. 

Pogo gave Mulder's retreating back a mournful look. "Mulder, it's me," she said. 

Scully almost dropped the bird. 

*** 

_Her adventure over, Pogo allowed Maggie to settle her into her nest area. She watched through the bars as the three humans stood outside, chattering. She had thoroughly enjoyed her trip back to Mrs. Curry's part of the jungle, and scare-the-humans with Mulder and Scully had been one of the best ever. For novices, these two played the game pretty well._

_She peered at the Mulder, who was smiling down at Maggie while rubbing his hand across Scully's back. This past week with Scully had been a lot of fun, but to have it capped with the appearance of this human male made it truly memorable. Now she knew why Scully spent so much time talking to him on the telephone. Ah, but Mulder had a glorious beak, as glorious as a human could have, despite the fact that it was such a boring color._

_To be fair, Scully had a pleasing beak also, refined, as it should be, for a female, but nicely prominent. And unlike Mulder, her top feathers were at least colorful, though they were a rather woeful shade of red._

_Humans were so odd, it was a wonder there were any of them at all. Males that didn't display, females that did, but in all the wrong colors -- how did they ever understand each other's intentions? Pogo had a theory, refined while she and Mrs. Curry watched MTV, that human males turned color only on special occasions, to call attention to their beauty. She couldn't be sure, but thought perhaps it happened when they were mating. Poor Mulder. By the looks of his top feathers, he hadn't done any mating for a long time._

_Feeling sleepy after her wonderful game, Pogo pulled herself up to the highest perch in her nest area, and watched the humans move to the door. "Ice, Ice, Baby," she murmured softly to herself, in memory of Mrs. Curry. When the humans turned back to look at her, she added, "My love is waiting for me," so Maggie wouldn't feel left out. Maggie's part of the jungle was starting to feel like home, after all, and Pogo wanted her to know she liked it here. Maggie had good grapes._

_The humans were still looking back at her, and she realized with a start that she'd forgotten something. She roused herself and cocked her head to catch Mulder's eye. "Goodnight, Mulder," she said softly, in Scully's voice. She let out an indignant squawk as Scully rushed toward her with the nighttime cover._

_From under her shroud, she heard Maggie laughing, and let loose another squawk to get everyone's attention back on her, where it belonged. "Good night, Mulder," she repeated into the ensuing silence. She made the appropriate beep, and clicking sound of the telephone hanging up, then added, "Sweet dreams."_

_***_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks: To Jill, for a fun jumping off paragraph, and haphazard method, for speedy beta. 
> 
> This story was written in response to the Scullyfic "Bump in the Night" challenge. To avoid confusion, the title has been changed.


End file.
